Beyond the Stone
by DoofusPrime
Summary: Ron Stoppable is gone. Kim's friends and parents tell her to accept what can't be changed, but Kim wants him back – and if there is one thing Kim knows, it's that she can do anything.
1. Into the Earth

**Beyond the Stone**, by DoofusPrime

_**Notes**: Just wanted to warn that this is rated M and is kind of dark compared to what I normally write for Kim Possible. Reviews are always appreciated!  
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_**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. This work was not created for profit. No copyright infringement is intended._

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**Into the Earth**

XX

"May he rest in peace."

The coffin was lowered into the earth's gaping maw. The eulogy ended and the rabbi stood in solemn silence. Kim Possible watched as her best friend disappeared into the soil. An entire future lost to the world of what might have been. Sealed in a wooden box, torn away from the world of what is. Gone.

_I'll be back soon, KP!_

She had seen his body briefly when it – no, he – was brought back to Middleton. In death, Ron's looks had the same boyish charm that they had held in life. She had not been allowed to see him again. Open casket funerals were not a part of Jewish custom. She imagined him inside the coffin with a smile on his face, seemingly unharmed, fast asleep. His clothing would hide the stomach wound that had killed him.

_You know I'll keep in touch, Kim._

Kim had asked him not go to to Japan. She knew it was selfish, but she wanted to spend the summer with him before they began college. They were not going to be in the same university, and Kim felt insecure about the idea of being apart from her best friend, her boyfriend, for the first significant period of time in her life. She had been a little insecure about Yori as well, but she trusted Ron. It was the idea of losing him, being away from him, that bothered her the most. Little did I know, Kim thought bitterly.

_It's going to be good for me!_

Kim looked at the mourners at the funeral. Ron's parents were the most prominent; his mother stared into space, and his father looked like he had grown years older in the last few days. Kim's own parents, to whom Ron had been almost like another child, were trying their best to look composed. Some of Ron's friends and acquaintances from Middleton high school were attending; Felix Renton had traveled back to Middleton to attend. Monique stood beside Kim and squeezed her shoulder with a reassuring hand.

The cantor began to chant a memorial prayer as he stood beside the rabbi. The words were meaningless echoes to Kim. Like her head was underwater. Ron had grounded her, kept her feet to the earth. Now that he was gone, she was not there. She saw that Sensei and Yori were not here, either; it was just as well. Kim did not know what would have happened if she had seen either of them at the funeral.

She found herself thinking back to scraps of the conversation that she had shared with Ron before he left for Japan. Strings of Ron's voice floated through her mind, twisting through corners, fading in and out like reflections on water. How long would it take before she forgot the sound of his voice? How long would it take before she forgot his face?

_I've got your back, KP._

Ron's face was clear in her mind as his parents and relatives approached the grave, beginning to shovel earth into the hole. It was customary, cathartic supposedly, but Kim could not imagine being able to do it. It was too final. Once the dirt came down, that was all. She had the strangest feeling that Ron would be bothered by the sound of the dirt hitting his coffin. It upset her so much that she almost shifted, as if she was going to tell them to stop. Monique squeezed harder on Kim's shoulder, sensing her best friend's distress.

"It's gonna be alright, girl. Just hang in there."

Kim leaned against her friend. She did not cry. She had cried enough already, until there was nothing left in her. She knew Monique meant well, but her friend was wrong. Nothing was alright. This was not the way things should be.

XX

Days had passed since the funeral, and Kim was at home in bed. The bedsheets were haphazardly flung across her body. She lay on her side and gazed at a picture of herself as a child, with Ron, that she had taken off of the wall. Her cellphone lay on the bedside table, but it was turned off. She was tired of people calling her and offering their condolences.

"Kim?"

Her mother's voice traveled into Kim's loft from the floor entrance. Kim did not answer. Anne Possible herself appeared in the entrance and watched her daughter with a look of concern.

"Kimmie, you know that it would be a good idea to talk to a therapist soon. Just to talk about what's happened."

Kim's only response was to shift slightly in bed, which Anne took as a sign that her daughter was listening.

"Talking to someone about it would help you."

Kim was still silent. Anne approached the bed and sat down beside Kim's prone form, noticing the picture of her daughter and Ron on the bedside table. Anne missed Ron herself; she had been disappointed by the idea that Ron would not be showing up at their door in the mornings to eat breakfast once he went to college. Now he would never be showing up at their door. Still, she knew she had to say something to her daughter, even though she did not know how to find the words.

"Honey... I know it's hard to deal with this. Ron's been a part of your life for so long, but you can't let that make you withdraw from everything. You have to start taking those first steps towards moving on. Ron wouldn't want to see you unhappy, you know. He'd want to see you trying to get better, maybe back to your missions when you're ready, because he knew that you could do anything."

"I knew Ron shouldn't have gone to Japan."

Anne frowned. Her daughter seemed to be ignoring her. She wished she was better at handling such a delicate situation; it was difficult enough to deal with at the hospital, but when it came to talking about someone that had been so close to both of them, she was at a loss.

"Kim, you can't change the past. Ron is gone now. I'm sorry."

Kim was unresponsive for a moment, but sat up in bed and sniffed, as if she was considering what her mother had said. Ron was gone. She got out of bed and put on fresh clothing, slipped on a pair of shoes that lay beside her bed as Anne watched her.

"Where are you going, Kimmie?"

"Out."

"Are you sure you don't want to talk more?"

"No. You're right, mom. I can't lay around doing nothing. I need to take action."

Kim did not notice her mother's confused expression as she walked down the loft stairs. She passed Jim and Tim's room and knocked on the door. The twins were inside, working on some kind of electronic device; they had not bothered her since Ron's funeral, not just because they knew they would get in trouble, but because they recognized it was not the time and place. They were also unhappy. As much as they enjoyed picking on Ron from time to time, he was family to them.

"Hey sis," Jim said.

"How are you doing?" Tim continued.

"I'm doing alright, guys. I'm going out for a while. I just wanted to tell you two how much I love you."

"Aww, gross!"

Kim managed a weak smile and leaned over to kiss both of them on their foreheads. She left the room and continued downstairs, finding her father in the kitchen with a newspaper. It was a familiar sight, one that she normally enjoyed seeing, even if it was hard for anything to lift her spirits now. She approached her father and kissed him on the cheek.

James looked at his daughter in surprise; Anne had apparently been successful in getting to Kim this time. "Well, hello there Kimmie-cub! Nice to see you up and around. Did you give any thought to what your mother said?"

"Yes. I'm just going out."

"What about some breakfast before you leave?"

"That's alright." She gave her father a hug. "You know I love you, dad."

"Of course, Kimmie. I love you too."

James looked at his daughter. He was glad to see Kim moving around and deciding to get a bit of fresh air, and he was always glad to hear his daughter tell him she loved him, but her behavior seemed a little bit off. But then, he knew it would be a while before his daughter would be her old familiar self again.

Kim opened the kitchen door and stepped into the morning air. Her mother had sparked something in her. She was not happy, and she knew that she could never get over Ron, but she had a purpose. She would not be coming home until she got what she wanted. Perhaps it was far-fetched. Perhaps it was even impossible. But for Kim, anything was possible.

XX

It did not take long for Kim to find Drakken and Shego's new lair. She could not ask Wade for directions since she did not want to involve him in the mission. Kim knew he would not approve. However, Drakken seemed to insist on building his lairs on top of prominent cliffs and rocky outcroppings, making them hard to miss even if one wasn't looking for them.

Kim finally clawed her way up to the top of the rock face and gazed at the sight that greeted her. Drakken's lair seemed different than it had looked in the past. It was less threatening, less imposing. It almost seemed like the offspring of a lair and a normal house. The walls were still thick, and searchlights still jutted out from the crenellated wall tops, but the lair's doorway seemed almost inviting. A slate walkway led up to the door, bordered by colorful flowers and hedges. Kim approached the door and looked down; a welcome mat told her to _Keep Out!_ but the style of the letters was friendly and inviting.

Kim opened the door, which was unlocked, and entered the lair without bothering to knock. The inside of the lair was equally confounding; there were computer terminals and what looked like workstations, but the work benches were mostly devoid of the debris that Kim normally found. A big-screen television was the most dominant feature of the lair. Well-padded couches and chairs gathered around the television like they were waiting to see a show themselves. Potted plants dotted the room.

"Kim Possible!"

Drakken appeared from around a corner. He was dressed in his normal blue coat and black boots, but instead of black gloves he was wearing oven mitts. A white chef's apron, draped over his blue coat, read "Kiss the Cook!" His tiny hands held a tray of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. Shego appeared behind him and looked equally surprised at the intruder.

Kim thought they looked like a married couple; she hadn't heard much from them since their appearance at the United Nations conference, and had no idea whether they were in some kind of relationship. To be honest, she didn't particularly care... she was there for other reasons.

"We haven't done anything bad lately, I swear!" squealed Drakken.

Shego seemed to realize that Kim was not there for the usual reasons. "Hello, Princess. What brings you here?" she asked.

"Ron."

Drakken set the tray of cookies down on a coffee table between the couch and the television. Shego set down a pair of milk-filled glasses she had been holding, and they both sat down, inviting Kim to do the same. They looked uncomfortable; they had probably heard about Ron on the news already. He wasn't famous, but being Kim Possible's sidekick was enough to get a blurb on television.

"I heard," said Drakken. "It was sad news. He was a worthy opponent."

Kim said nothing, but she seemed to be looking at Drakken's laboratory equipment with interest, as sparse as it now was.

"So what brings you to my lair? Do you want to... talk?" asked Drakken hesitantly.

"No." Kim got up from the couch and walked over to some of Drakken's equipment. "I need to get Ron back."

Drakken shifted uncomfortably.

"I thought that, being a mad scientist, maybe you had some way to do that."

"I'm afraid not, Kim Possible. I am indeed all that when it comes to inventions, but I do not think my abilities extend to life and death. There are other things that could be done, however."

"Like what?"

Drakken took a bite from one of the cookies and washed it down with a drink of milk. "A synthodrone could be created that imitated Ron's personality."

Kim thought about the idea. Eric had been convincing, there was no doubt about that. She knew Drakken was talented enough to fool her into thinking a synthodrone was a real human being. But could he fool her into thinking that Ron was still there? She would know that it was a synthodrone. Not only that, but Eric had been new, unfamiliar. As much as a synthodrone might seem like Ron at first, she doubted that Drakken could capture the understanding that came from a lifetime of growing up with someone, observing their tics, their behavior, their many naunces.

Even if Drakken _could_ capture those nuances in a synthodrone, even if she could have her memory of Ron's death erased, Kim would be fooling herself. She'd be entering into a false relationship. Giving up her self-awareness, lying to herself, in a sense. Something about the idea made Kim's skin crawl.

"I don't think I could do that."

Drakken nodded. "I could make a clone of the bu – of Ron, if you had a sample of his DNA. Maybe from his hair." This time it was Shego that looked as if her skin was crawling.

Kim considered Drakken's new suggestion. The clone seemed to present many of the same problems as a synthodrone. It still wouldn't be Ron. Not only that, but a clone would only capture Ron's physical characteristics to some extent. Kim didn't think that personality and memories could be cloned... although, when she considered inventions like the Attitudinator and the Moodulator, she had to wonder.

She was forced to dismiss the idea of cloning as well. When it came down to it, Kim did not want a copy or an imitation of Ron, even if it was enough to fool her. She wanted Ron.

"No, we couldn't clone him either."

Drakken shrugged as he finished another cookie. "Then I'm afraid I don't know of any other options. Science and technology can give great power, but there are limits to what can be done with the laws of nature." He considered offering Kim some cookies and a glass of milk, but he had the feeling that she did not want to stick around and chat.

Kim nodded. "I didn't really think anything could be done. But I had to ask. Thanks anyway."

She got up and walked back to the lair's entrance. Drakken and Shego could not help her, but she was not out of options yet. She needed to pay a visit to the people that she held responsible for Ron's death. The people that had stolen him from her.

"Kim," said Shego before her red-headed foe could disappear out the door.

Kim may have been her arch enemy, but Shego felt a certain amount of sympathy. She remembered Ron's display of power when the Warlordians had invaded, the way his entire body had glowed with blue fire as he destroyed them. Shego had never thought much of Kim's sidekick, but after seeing that display, she regretted never getting the chance to test herself against him in battle.

"Yeah?"

"You might have to accept the fact that Stoppable isn't coming back."

The only response Shego heard was the sound of a door slamming shut.

XX

Beneath the cargo plane, a mountain reared up into the evening sky. Nestled in its crags, reachable from the ground only by a long narrow rope bridge, was an ancient ninja training center known as Yamanouchi. Kim was hitching a ride there; the overland journey would take far too long. She had questions, and hopefully, Yamanouchi's caretaker would have answers.

"Looks like we're almost there, Miss Possible."

"Thanks," said Kim in an emotionless voice.

"It's the least I could do after you helped save my son from that wildebeest stampede!"

The pilot expected Kim to respond for some reason, but no response came. Kim made her way to the cargo hatch and opened it, tightening the straps of her parachute backpack. It was difficult to see anything, but she could make out general shapes as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. As soon as she caught the telltale glimpse of ornate rooftops below her, she leaped into the night.


	2. She Meets the Murderer

**She Meets the Murderer**

XX

The Yamanouchi complex was empty.

Kim walked through the courtyard and found no sign of life. Gnarled trees, born untold years ago, bathed themselves in an eerie moonlit glow. The only sound Kim could hear was the occasional whistle of the wind as it twisted a course through the mountains. The school's main building had been rebuilt since its destruction many months ago by the Yono, but no light shone from its doors and windows.

Kim entered the building and peered into the dark interior. The Yamanouchi school's buildings were sparsely decorated. When students were there, it gave the impression of comfortable austerity. Now, with the school seemingly abandoned, Kim thought the rooms seemed dead.

"Sensei?"

Kim's voice echoed coldly through the room. She was greeted by silence. After waiting a few moments, she was about to make her way farther into the building when a faint yellow light began to shine through a nearby paper wall. The light drew closer, and Sensei appeared from around a corner with a candle in hand, walking towards her so silently that he could have been floating.

"Kim Possible."

Kim noticed Yori following closely behind Sensei. The ninja's outfit blended so fully into the dark room that she could have been Sensei's shadow. The two of them stopped in front of Kim.

"I am sorry for your loss," said Sensei with a bow.

"Where are all the students?"

"They are not here. Only Yori and myself remain. The school has been shut down temporarily for a period of mourning. We wanted to pay our respects to our great hero."

"After you paid your respects by murdering him, you mean."

Kim knew she was exaggerating, but her anger bubbled to the surface, out of her control. They may not have murdered Ron, but Kim held them responsible for his death. Sensei remained impassive as usual, but Yori looked downcast.

"It was Ron Stoppable's choice to come here," said Sensei. "He was following his destiny as the chosen one."

Kim laughed bitterly. "The chosen one? Destiny? Are you telling me he was chosen to die? Your stupid prophecies and paths are what killed him. I chose to love Ron – why doesn't my choice matter?"

"Ah, but it does, Kim Possible. The wind cools from whichever direction it blows."

"I didn't come here to listen to some silly aphorism. I came here to find a way to bring Ron back. You always talk about destiny – well, I refuse to believe this is Ron's destiny. You never bothered to tell me or Ron enough about this Mystical Monkey Power. You have all these mystical abilities, you can levitate, you can communicate with people mystically – there must be _some_ way to bring Ron back!"

Sensei shook his wizened head slowly. "I am truly sorry, Possible-san, but there is nothing I can do. I cannot tear down the walls that separate life and death. They exist for a reason; immortality would not be a blessing to human beings, but a curse.

"Stoppable-san chose his own path. It did not lead where we might have hoped it would, but that is often the way of things. The only thing that you can do is honor his memory by continuing with your own life, and continuing to fight the forces of evil. Stoppable-san is gone. You must accept that; it is the way things are."

"Damn the way things are!"

Kim felt a white hot bolt of rage shoot through her body. She smacked the candle away from Sensei's hands, extinguishing the flame and sending it flying across the wooden temple floor. "I'm going to make things the way they should be!"

She stood balefully, shaking with anger. Yori flinched and shrank a little behind her old master. Sensei himself did not react to Kim's outburst, although his wrinkled face was lined with sad sympathy. Kim knew she could not hurt him; Sensei was most likely more than a match for her, especially with Yori by his side. Even if he wasn't a match for her, she did not want to hurt him. She realized that even if Sensei could do something to help her, he would refuse.

Kim's anger seemed to drain away as quickly as it had come. In its place, a sense of icy hopelessness seeped into her body. Kim turned silently in the darkness and walked back to the temple doors. She had failed.

XX

Yori stood silently as her master knelt down and picked up the fallen candle, lighting it with a wave of his hand. Her loyalty to Sensei ran deep, and her connection to him was strong, but she couldn't help but feel sympathy for Kim. It was true that Ron had made his own choice; Yori had even encouraged him in pursuing the path of the chosen one and developing his powers. She had been happy to see him come back to Yamouchi. Ron's death, however, was not something she had counted on.

"Master," she said, "I would like to take a walk outside."

"Very well."

Yori made her way through the unlit building, her ninja training having long since given her the ability to navigate in darkness, and walked out into the empty courtyard. She breathed in the fresh air as a breeze rustled her hair and laid its cooling fingers on the back of her neck. The sky was a deep bluish black, but mountain crags reached up from beyond the courtyard's walls like black claws into the night.

Yori loved the school when it was silent and peaceful, but tonight she could hear faint sobs coming from outside the school's walls. She opened the front gates to find Kim Possible sitting on a rocky outcropping, facing away from the school. Her face was buried in her hands.

"Kim-san."

Yori sat down next to Kim. Long red hair shook with her sobs and obscured her face, its color recognizable even in the blackness of night.

"I wanted to say that I am sorry for what happened. I respect Sensei, but I do not believe that Ron-san's death is part of some greater way of things. Perhaps we were rash in sending him against Fukushima. Perhaps Ron-san was not yet ready to defeat him. We did not anticipate things to happen the way they did... perhaps we are responsible."

Yori had questioned the wisdom of sending Ron against Fukushima alone, but Sensei had wanted it that way. He had never told Yori why; perhaps he was testing Ron, perhaps he felt that it was somehow Ron's destiny to face Fukushima and defeat him. Yori had trusted in her master's judgment, but now she wondered if that trust had been misplaced.

Kim's crying trailed off. "No, Yori... you shouldn't blame yourself. Ron chose to come here. And I could have stopped him if I tried hard enough, but I wanted him to do what he thought was best. I know I'm being unfair in blaming you guys for his death. I just miss him. I want him back so badly, Yori."

Yori reached a comforting arm around the broken girl beside her and drew her closer. Kim leaned in and buried her face against Yori's shoulder. She needed someone to hold onto.

"You need time, Kim-san. Only time can make this better."

She could feel Kim's head shaking in disagreement. "I don't know, Yori. I've known him all my life. Even when we were just friends, he was there all the time. He always had my back. I don't know how I can move on."

Yori frowned. She understood Kim's feelings, and it was hard for her to deal with Ron's passing as well. She had not attended the funeral, partly because no one from Yamanouchi had been asked to attend, but partly because she felt some measure of guilt in what had happened. She knew that moving on was the wisest choice. But perhaps when the heart wanted something, wisdom could not get in its way.

"Kim Possible... there is a possibility that something could be done."

Kim released Yori and moved away, watching the beautiful ninja expectantly.

"I do not want to feed you false hopes."

Kim shook her head. "Please tell me. It's better than having no hope."

"Very well," said Yori with a nod. "Sensei would not want to tell you this, but I have heard stories of ways that one might be brought back from death. I have heard of an ancient spell that can be performed, with the right preparations, to bring back a loved one."

"What kind of preparations?"

"I do not know."

"Is there someone I can find who knows how to perform this spell?"

"I do not know that either. I have only heard of this spell whispered in rumors, passed from mouth to mouth. It is the kind of mystical force that Sensei would avoid. He believes that certain rules must be followed, that we must stand back from the forces of life and let them make their own way. We must be pebbles in the stream, not boulders."

Kim listened to the ninja's words with great interest.

"At least, I think that is something that Sensei would say," added Yori with a smile.

Kim stood up from the cold rock and wiped her eyes. Something about her was different. A light, however faint, had been lit in the distance, and she was going to follow it.

"If I can find a way to bring Ron back, I will," said Kim.

"I must admit that I am too afraid to look into such things myself, Kim-san. But I also want Ron back, if any possibility of that exists. I admire your American-style stubbornness."

Kim smiled. "Until next time, Yori."

Yori watched as her one-time rival for Ron's affections began to make her way towards the rope bridge that straddled the gaping chasm separating Yamanouchi's entrance from the rest of the world. It had been difficult for Yori to let go of the idea of being with Ron, but she realized that Kim was good for him.

It was much harder, however, to let go of the idea of Ron being there at all. She watched Kim's figure fade into the surrounding darkness with conflicting emotions. Yori hoped that Kim would succeed in her search, but a lingering feeling itched away, deep in her chest. Perhaps Kim Possible was not going to find what she expected.

XX

Fukushima sat in the darkness of his cell, curled against a wall. The cell was sparsely furnished; a bed and a toilet were the room's only occupants, besides the prisoner himself.

In the past, Fukushima may not have been bothered by the cell. He was a ninja; until recently, he had been accustomed to living an ascetic lifestyle, free from diversions, dedicated only to meditation and the honing of his skills. That was only until recently, however. Fukushima's lust for power had grown in the past few years of his life; self-discipline was a useful tool, but it was not enough. He demanded the admiration of others. Even their submission. Now, he hated being trapped in the confines of a cell.

Fukushima's defeat at the hands of Ron Stoppable, years ago, had increased those dark urges. His desire for power and recognition had been augmented by a bitter ache in his heart. A black, rotting spot that grew with time. Fukushima had wanted revenge. And he had gotten it.

He had gone searching for a mystical statue, something he had heard Monkey Fist speak of. It was a powerful artifact, but Fukushima did not care; what was important to him was the fact that it was a tool. A trap to lure his prey. He knew Ron Stoppable was training at Yamanouchi, away from his dangerous partner and lover, Kim Possible. Fukushima had honed some new skills of his own in the time since he had failed to take the Lotus Blade for himself, but he preferred avoiding a fight with Kim Possible. Divide and conquer, as they say.

The trap had worked perfectly. That impudent outsider came to take the artifact back, sent by his foolish master, Sensei. Fukushima had engaged him in battle; it was a hard fight, but he killed his foe. Fukushima had stabbed the outsider in his stomach and watched the sandy-haired boy sink to the ground.

It was an interesting moment. Right before stabbing him, Fukushima could have sworn he was about to die himself. The outsider had looked like he was about to summon his Mystical Monkey Powers. Fukushima had been pinned to the ground, his sword knocked from his grasp, looking up in fear, when the outsider had paused. The halo of blue flickering light that danced around his body had dimmed. It was as if he was hesitant to use his full power. As if he knew what the consequences might be.

Fukushima had used the moment to free himself from Ron Stoppable's grip, grabbing the Lotus Blade where it hung from the outsider's obi and stabbing him with his own weapon. The outsider had brought the Lotus Blade with him, but had not been prepared to use it in the fight. It was the outsider's mistake; Fukushima had no such restrictions on how far he was willing to go.

Fukushima's revenge was complete - which was why he was so confused. Alone in the prison cell, he thought back to his moment of triumph. What had he expected? Some surge of new power? Some clarity as to what he could do next? He had watched his enemy sink to the ground and bleed to death, and nothing happened. After a few moments, there was a dead body. Fukushima was the same, although he had made himself a murderer. Ron Stoppable's death gave him no surge of elation, no satisfaction. It was just something that happened.

It had not taken long for Global Justice to capture Fukushima, working in concert with Sensei, Yori, and several other Yamanouchi ninjas that used to be Fukushima's fellow students. They had sent Ron in alone, underestimating Fukushima, but they did not make the same mistake twice. Fukushima had been distracted by the strange lack of resolution following the outsider's death, and he had been captured easily.

Now he was locked in a dark cell. He did not know where he was; he had been blindfolded and immobilized during his transfer to the prison. The guards were Japanese, and he hadn't boarded any planes, so his best guess was that it was some kind of Japanese branch of Global Justice, or perhaps some organization affiliated with them. Fukushima would have been able to escape from a normal prison, but the security here was too high. The bars too thick, the walls too strong. All he could do was sit, waiting for his punishment, thinking about Ron Stoppable. Wondering why he felt dirty inside.

Fukushima raised his head in the darkness when a clanging sound echoed some distance away from his cell. The guards did not like it when he talked too much, but he could not restrain his curiosity.

"Hello?"

There was a moment of silence, and then several more clanging sounds echoed from outside of his cell. This time they seemed to be a little closer.

"What's going on out there?"

Fukushima began to hear several hurried shouts in the distance. One person yelled _stop!_ in a threatening voice. A few more indistinguishable shouts reached Fukushima's ears, when suddenly a gunshot went off. He listened carefully, a sense of curiosity and concern both rising in him. Could it be someone trying to break him out? Fukushima felt relieved for a moment, but relief turned to disappointment when he realized this was not likely. He had burned all his bridges. He had no allies left.

It was more likely that someone was coming for revenge. He thought of a certain red-haired girl and shivered.

Several more gunshots rang out, this time even closer, and Fukushima could hear a few vague yells and shuffling noises, as if a fight was drawing to a close. Finally, the noises ceased, and his cell returned to an uncomfortable silence. He wasn't sure how many other cells were around him, or if there were even any other prisoners nearby; the entrance to his cell was a small door made of thick steel bars, and all he had seen since his arrival in the cell was a blank wall and the occasional passing guard.

Footsteps began to echo from down the hall outside his cell, to the left. They grew closer. The dim light coming from his doorway was blocked as a figure appeared. A female figure. An outline of thick hair ran down her back, almost to her waist. Fukushima had never met Kim Possible, but her reputation was considerable, and he had seen pictures. It was her.

"Are you here to kill me?"

"No. I'm here to let you out."

It was not the answer Fukushima was expecting. He watched as Kim Possible opened the cell door with a electronic key card. She entered slowly, keeping her eyes on him. One hand returned the card to her pocket, while the other clutched a pair of handcuffs.

"Put these on." She held the cuffs out to the ninja.

Fukushima narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because you're coming with me."

"What if I decide to find my own way out, now that you have been so kind as to release me?"

"You'd have to get past me."

Fukushima sized her up. She did not seem angry, although there was something very dangerous about her demeanor. He wondered if she would really be willing to kill him. Perhaps she was planning it, but just didn't want to do it yet. Fukushima decided that putting on the handcuffs was the wisest option.

"Very well," he said, extending his hands.

Kim approached him and put on the handcuffs. They seemed to be much stronger than a normal pair; Fukushima could tell it would be difficult to escape from them, if he could figure out how at all. Still, his legs were free. He would obey Kim for now, but at some point he would find his chance to make a break for it.

"Where are we going?" asked Fukushima as he followed his captor out of the cell. He noticed another door hanging open at the far end of the hallway, through which he could see some kind of a control room. Several guards were sprawled on the ground inside. Unconscious, probably, although Fukushima couldn't be absolutely sure.

"I'm not sure yet."

"Then what is it that you want from me?"

Kim looked at her captive impassively. Soon after she had seen Ron's body on his arrival in Middleton, she had sworn to kill whoever had taken him away from her. She had barely been able to control her rage. Now, looking at Fukushima, she was calm and collected. She buried her rage inside herself.

Kim did not know whether or not she could really kill Fukushima, but more importantly, she needed him. Yori had told her about a dark spell, a mystical power that Sensei was not willing to use. Kim did know of one person who dabbled in such things. Unfortunately, that person was currently locked in a prison of stone.

"I have some questions about Monkey Fist."


	3. She Rolls the Stone Away

**She Rolls the Stone Away**

XX

Kim shivered as she watched the figure in front of her walk calmly through the snow. Fukushima was either used to cold weather, or it did not bother him as much as it did Kim. The fact that Kim was dressed poorly did not help things. She had not anticipated a trek through snowy mountain passes when she had left Middleton.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?"

Fukushima's head nodded. "This is where I first worked with Monkey Fist to steal the Lotus Blade from Yamanouchi. He had a lair in the volcanic mountain caves. Much of it was filled in with lava, but perhaps we can still find the object I am thinking of."

Earlier, Kim had asked her captive if he knew of any mystical spells or artifacts that Monkey Fist may have owned, specifically the kind that could bring people back to life. Fukushima had told her that Monkey Fist dealt in many dark magics, but he did not know of anything that could bring the dead back to life. However, Fukushima did know of a way that they might be able to speak to Monkey Fist.

Kim looked at the landscape around her. If she had been dressed better, and if other things were not pressing down on her mind, Kim might have actually enjoyed the sights. Evergreen trees dotted the ground, wearing sweaters of glittering snow. Mountain crags jutted up around them, not far away, although the immediate area was easier to navigate. Here and there, hot springs broke through the snowy ground and let out sighs of steam.

Fukushima had told Kim about how he had taken Ron through this very path on their way to Monkey Fist's cave lair, long ago. It had been Ron's first visit to Yamanouchi, during Middleton High School's student exchange program. As Kim followed behind the captive ninja, she felt a strange sense of comfort. Perhaps she was tracing Ron's footsteps with her own. Ron had been here long ago, but it was almost as if she could sense his presence. He was close, but very far.

"Why do you not simply release Monkey Fist by raising the Yono temple?" asked Fukushima as they trudged through the snow.

"He's not there anymore. A while after he was turned to stone, after Ron and I went back to Middleton, Sensei told us that someone dug up his statue and took it away. We don't know where he is now. Besides, I don't think it works that way."

"What do you mean?" asked Fukushima.

Kim remembered what Sensei had said when Monkey Fist had been turned to stone; the nature of the Yono was mysterious, but apparently Sensei knew of no way to bring Monkey Fist back.

"Sensei believed that raising the temple up again would only summon the Yono. I don't know why Monkey Fist was trapped in stone. Even if I could get him out, I don't want to risk it – it's easier to communicate with him in some other way. If you're not lying to me, that is."

"Rest assured, Kim Possible, I am not. As long as we can still find the object I am thinking of. Perhaps the lava buried it." Fukushima arrived at a dark cave entrance, partially concealed by evergreen trees. "Here. Follow me inside. Take a tree branch with you."

Kim tore the branch from a nearby pine tree, not bothering to ask why.

"No sudden moves, Fukushima."

They descended into the cave's black depths. Kim's eyes took a while to get adjusted to the light, while Fukushima seemed to have a slightly easier time. His ninja skills must come in handy, thought Kim. They scrabbled awkwardly through dark passages for a while before the rock walls began to glow with a faint red light. Ahead of them, a river of lava coursed through a large chamber.

"This is different. The lava has cut off much of Monkey Fist's old lair," said Fukushima. "Some of it may still be accessible."

Kim followed the ninja as he walked around the cavern, eventually choosing a narrow cleft in the stone. As Fukushima squeezed his way through an increasingly narrow tunnel, Kim realized why he had told her to bring a tree branch. She dipped the branch into the river of lava before following Fukushima, lighting its tip in a burst of flame.

Kim returned to the crevice in the rock before Fukushima could slip too far away, using the torch to light the passage. Eerie shadows danced across the passage's rock walls. Sometimes they were distorted reflections of herself, of Fukushima. Sometimes it was just the darkness pressing against the feeble light of the torch. Sometimes the shadows seemed like they had a life of their own.

"Here," announced Fukushima as they arrived at what looked like a door hewn into the stone. "We are lucky."

Kim watched as Fukushima seemed to literally walk through the rock. She realized it was a curtain, designed to blend in completely with the surrounding wall. She followed Fukushima into a chamber that looked slightly more habitable than the rest of the cave. Part of it had been filled with lava, but she could make out some furniture. One corner of the cavern even sported a refrigerator and sink. Kim supposed every evil lair needed a place to make a sandwich. She used the flame from her rapidly dwindling tree branch to light a few wall sconces and illuminate the room.

"Here!" said Fukushima excitedly. He rushed towards a wooden chest nestled in one corner of the cavern, amongst a variety of boxes, weapons, and strange objects that Kim could not identify. It looked like Monkey Fist had been using this part of the cavern as a storage area.

Fukushima tugged at the chest as best as he could manage with handcuffs on. Part of it had been covered with rock, apparently from when lava had flowed over it and cooled. The lava had burned the wood away and penetrated into the chest. Metal bands kept the chest locked into the igneous rock that pinned it to the floor.

"Out of the way," said Kim impatiently. She pushed Fukushima aside and grabbed a sword from amongst the cavern's refuse. The wood gave way and crumbled as Kim hacked away at it. She leaned down, pulling the remaining planks away to reveal what Fukushima had been looking for.

A glass orb.

"That's it?"

Kim picked the orb up carefully. Fortunately it had not been enveloped by the lava. Kim thought it was made out of glass, but she couldn't be sure; it was a translucent milky color, and something in its depths seemed to swirl independently of the orb itself. It was as if the orb was a window into a cloudy sky.

"How does it work?" she asked.

"I do not know. Monkey Fist used it to communicate with me while I was at Yamanouchi. He called it the astral orb. Sometimes he could use it to watch people without their knowledge as well. All he did was place his hands on its surface."

"He didn't say anything? Magic words?"

"No. I did not hear him speak any words to begin the process."

Kim looked at the orb thoughtfully. "An astral orb, used to communicate with people... sounds kinda like something Sensei could do. He could project an image of himself to Ron and send messages to him."

"Yes," said Fukushima. "It is a very difficult skill. I do not know of any man who has mastered such skills, other than Sensei. Monkey Fist tried, but he could not do it on his own. He had to use the astral orb as a conduit."

Kim looked at the orb. She had no idea how to contact Monkey Fist, or even where he was. Perhaps it was a lost cause; perhaps Monkey Fist could not respond at all. His body had been transformed to stone - was there anything left to communicate with? When Monkey Fist had been defeated, Sensei had told Kim that he was following the path of the Yono, but she had no idea what that meant.

Kim decided that if the astral orb was designed to communicate with people, and if Monkey Fist had done it without words, then its use must be intuitive. She placed her hands on the orb, intending to simply imagine the person with whom she wanted to communicate, painting a clear image of them in her mind.

"Wait."

Kim's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Fukushima's voice.

"Yes?"

"Before you attempt to communicate with Monkey Fist, I must warn you. Monkey Fist told me never to touch the orb. Also, he would cut off his conversations with me very quickly, after he had learned what he needed to know. It was as if he did not want to be connected to the orb for long periods of time. Sometimes he seemed very nervous when he used it."

Kim looked at Fukushima's face in the flickering orange light of the wall sconces she had lit with her torch. The ninja did seem a little nervous.

"If this thing is so powerful, why did Monkey Fist just leave it here?"

Fukushima shrugged. "We were trying to escape from the lava flow that filled the cave. There was no time to take anything with us, and we did not realize anything might be salvageable. And judging by his behavior, I would guess that Monkey Fist was perhaps not very motivated to retrieve the orb. He seemed ambivalent about using it."

Kim shrugged. She had to use the orb; she wasn't convinced she would be able to contact anyone n the first place. She put her hands back on the orb and began to concentrate, trying to remember Monkey Fist as best she could. His black-lidded eyes swam in her consciousness. His hands, thick with coarse dark hair. His elongated simian feet.

_Talk to me, Monkey Fist. Help me._

She pleaded into the void. Monkey Fist's image sharpened in her mind, but it was only an image, only in her mind. Nothing happened.

Kim was about to let go of the orb when she felt a faint sensation coming out of its depths. The orb began to warm up. It grew hot to the touch, almost to the point that Kim had to let go of it to avoid burning her hands, when suddenly the temperature stabilized. Her eyes had been closed to help her concentrate more fully on the image of Monkey Fist, but now she opened them.

A voice echoed through the cavern, or her head. She wasn't sure which.

_Kim Possible?_

The voice was coming from outside of Kim's head, judging by Fukushima's shrinking reaction.

"Monkey Fist," Kim said out loud. "Can you hear me?"

_Yes._

"Where are you?" Kim's words floated through the musty air of the cavern.

_I do not know how to describe it in words. There is no 'where' here. It is a place in which one can see without eyes, and speak without a mouth. I am a prisoner of the Yono._

Kim listened to the disembodied voice. It was hard to glean any emotion from it, but something about Monkey Fist's tone suggested that he was in pain.

"What do you mean, a prisoner?"

_He feeds on me. On my energy. My life. You must help me, Kim Possible. You must release me..._

The voice temporarily trailed off, as if it was being pulled back. Kim looked down at the orb; her hands were still on it, and she assumed she was not doing anything to break the connection. She hoped that she could stay in contact with Monkey Fist long enough to get what she wanted.

"Monkey Fist, I need help. Ron Stoppable is dead. I need to find a way to get him back."

The voice returned. _Ron Stoppable... I remember... why are you asking me for help?_

"I need to find some way to bring him back to life. I was told that there might be a spell that can do that, and I figured you'd be a good person to ask."

_Please, release me..._

"I'll free you if you help me find what I want."

_Very well, Kim Possible. There is more than one way to break the barrier of life and death. I will show you where to go..._

XX

Kim and her captive were halfway to the rocky landmark that Monkey Fist had told them to look for, when Kim realized she was missing something.

"Wait," she said, stopping in a copse of trees. "This orb can communicate with anyone if you can just imagine them?"

Fukushima shrugged. "I do not know."

"Well, I could talk to Monkey Fist, and he's not here in our reality anymore."

Kim knelt down and opened the knapsack, retrieving the astral orb from inside. She placed her hands on it, concentrating frantically. A lightly freckled face with sandy hair flashed against the darkness of her closed eyelids. A red shirt. A black undershirt. False bravado. Childlike curiosity. A smile.

_Come on Ron, talk to me._

She focused on Ron's image with such intensity that it hurt. Her hands pressed against the orb with white knuckles. She was giving it everything she had, but still, the orb did nothing. After a few moments, it was still cool to the touch. Inert.

Kim slackened her grip on the orb and slumped over. She felt a stinging tear escape from one of her eyes.

"I can't find him. He won't answer."

Fukushima watched the red-headed teen with a curious sense of sympathy. "Monkey Fist is not in our reality, but he is still alive, in a sense. Perhaps the orb cannot communicate with the dead."

The ninja thought about what had just happened. Kim Possible had tried and failed to contact her dead lover. She had been completely engrossed in her search; Fukushima easily could have attacked her, even with his hands cuffed together. And yet he hadn't. Perhaps he truly regretted what he had done. Fukushima wondered if there was some kind redemption in helping the outsider's lover try to bring him back. He was skeptical that it was possible – Monkey Fist sometimes exaggerated the power of the magic he had been so obsessed with. Still, Fukushima wondered if he could get rid of the nagging feeling of guilt that ate away inside him.

"Come on," said Kim as she got back up. She waited for Fukushima to take the lead so she could watch him more carefully, and the two figures began tracing a path through the pine trees, towards their destination.

XX

Kim stood in front of a distinctive rock outcropping, covered in moss and lichen, huddled against the earth like a sleeping animal. She and Fukushima were in a small indentation near the top of a mountain peak. Right now they were hidden from view, but earlier Kim had noticed that they were only about a mile from the Yamanouchi ninja school. If one climbed to the top of the indentation, the school could be seen only a short distance away, nestled on an adjacent peak.

A large boulder rested at the base of the rock outcropping. Kim recognized it as the place where Monkey Fist had directed them to go.

"We're here."

Kim pulled a knapsack from her back, which she had prepared while they were still in Monkey Fist's old cave lair. Inside the knapsack was the astral orb that she used to communicate with Monkey Fist, and a pair of hairy gloves that he had told her to take along. The gloves almost looked like the hands of a monkey; she assumed they were imbued with some kind of magic that suited Monkey Fist's simian tastes.

Kim pulled the gloves over her hands and pressed against the boulder. There was almost no resistance. The stone rolled away easily, shifting to the side and revealing a black cave entrance. Kim peered inside. The entrance yawned at her like an open mouth. She was getting tired of caves.

She pushed Fukushima ahead of her as they entered the dank cave passage, to make sure there were no traps. The interior was very simple; they walked only a short distance, although it was a steep passage, until they reached a small chamber in the earth. The chamber illuminated itself with an unsettling blue-tinged light; where the light came from, Kim could not tell. The floor of the chamber was polished stone, but the walls and ceiling were made of earth. The air was cold and damp. Something about it reminded Kim of a tomb.

Alcoves honeycombed the walls of the chamber, and several pedestals stood in the center of the floor. The alcoves seemed to hold scrolls, although there were some sinister objects nestled in their dark recesses as well. Kim thought she saw a shriveled head – not human, but something else – on one pedestal. A square hole in one of the walls held a beautiful necklace, which Kim assumed was probably not the kind you wanted to wear. Some of the objects in the alcoves were round, some were square. Some had shapes that defied description. Some had no shape at all.

Kim removed her gloves and put them back in the knapsack, removing the astral orb instead. She placed her bare hands on the orb, once again picturing Monkey Fist in her mind. This time, the connection seemed to occur more quickly; the orb heated, and she felt something rise from its depths.

_Are you there now?_

"Yes," replied Kim. Her voice did not echo, the way it did in the larger cavern of Monkey Fist's lair. In this smaller chamber, her voice seemed small and faint, like it was being absorbed into the ground around her. "I don't understand... what is this place?"

_I created this chamber to hold certain spells and mystical artifacts that needed to be hidden._

That explains the monkey gloves, Kim thought. They must be some kind of key that only Monkey Fist could use. "Why is it so close to Yamanouchi?" she asked.

_No one would assume that such dark mystical forces were gathered so close to a school like Yamanouchi._

Kim was confused. "So you wanted to hide these? Why? If they're so powerful, why didn't you use them, or keep them in one of your own lairs?"

_I am usually more interested in monkey-related spells, if you hadn't noticed._

"Okay, that's true. Still, that can't be all there is to it."

_True. _

Monkey Fist's disembodied voice seemed lost in thought.

_ I was tempted to use some of these spells, but I was afraid of their power. Perhaps I should have put the orb you are using in this chamber as well. Unleashing the Yono was also a mistake. _ _Some things are better left alone._

Kim felt hesitant. The earthen chamber had a certain aura to it. A sinister feeling that hung in the air, like the heat of a humid afternoon. It was true that Monkey Fist had gotten in over his head when he tried to use the power of the Yono.

But then, Monkey Fist's goals were evil. He used magic to try to control others, to hurt them. He had gotten what he deserved, although Kim felt a pang of doubt even as she told herself this. Her own goals were good – she simply wanted her boyfriend to come back to her. She tried to imagine giving up, moving on to a life without Ron. Giving up, or living without Ron, were not things that she _could_ imagine. She felt herself straighten up with a new sense of resolve. It was too late to give up now. Kim was not the type to back down.

"Tell me where the spell is, Monkey Fist."

_Very well. There are several spells in this chamber that deal with life and death, but there is one in particular that fits your purpose, I believe. Go to the alcove in the back, on the far left._

Kim walked towards a hole in the wall, still holding the astral orb in her hands, and cocked her head to indicate that Fukushima should stay close. She stopped next to the alcove. "This one?"

_Yes. Remove the cloth inside._

A tingling sensation traveled up Kim's spine. Monkey Fist seemed to be able to see what she saw, or at least sense her somehow. She held the orb with one hand and pressed it to her body as she removed a bundle of cloth from the alcove with her other hand. She handled it too roughly; the cloth, brittle and ancient, fell away, revealing a dagger that fell to the floor with a clatter.

Kim stared at the dagger. Its handle was plain and unadorned, made out of some kind of nondescript black material. The blade was not long, but it undulated, as if it was a fragment of a frozen wave. She couldn't guess the dagger's age; it might be ancient, or it might be brand new. An eerie sensation seemed to radiate from the dagger. Fukushima drew closer to Kim and stared at the dagger with interest.

_That is what you will use,_ Monkey Fist's voice intoned.

"What is it?"

_A dagger, obviously. It is a magical talisman that works as a focus to perform a spell. It can open a window into another world, perhaps wide enough to bring your precious boyfriend back to you.  
_

Kim's interest was piqued. "Another world?"

_Yes. Where do you think I am speaking from, Kim Possible? Perhaps 'world' is not the right word. Another plane of existence. Another aspect of being which things can reside. The material world is not the only place in which sentient beings can be found. Other worlds are usually separated from each other, but not always. I discovered this through the Yono, to my dismay. Perhaps you'll have better luck trying to communicate with your Ron Stoppable._

Kim nodded, her gaze resting on the dagger. "How do I use this?"

_I found it long ago. According to the monks from whom I stole it, the dagger is imbued with a resurrection spell. You can only bring back someone who has been murdered. You must go to the final resting place of the one you wish to resurrect, and there, you must use the dagger to spill the blood of his killer over his grave._

Kim stared at Fukushima, whose face began to blanch in the sickly light of the cavern.

"I have to murder Ron's killer on top of his grave to bring Ron back?"

_That is the way of things when you are dealing in this kind of magic. You cannot get something for free. There must be balance. Life must be traded for life._

Kim nodded. In a twisted way, it made sense.

_Now that I have helped you, please, release me from the Yono!_

"I'm sorry Monkey Fist, but I lied. I don't know how to release you."

_What? You can't leave me here. You don't understand... the things I have seen..._

Kim had been holding the orb and communicating with Monkey Fist for a long time. The orb was still hot, although her hands had grown used to the temperature, but now something was different. Monkey Fist was still pleading through the astral connection, but Kim could feel – almost hear – something else. An almost imperceptible buzzing sound bothered her ears, and she began to feel a strange sensation. As if the depths of the orb were growing wider. As if Monkey Fist was not the only presence on the other side of the connection. Kim had an unmistakable feeling that something – or some things – were approaching from a great distance, but getting closer.

_Kim, release me... I beg you..._

Kim dropped the orb to the ground. It rolled away without shattering, and the strange sensations that had coursed through her body were gone. She used the knapsack to pick the orb back up, being careful not to touch it with her bare hands again. Next to the knapsack was the dagger, still lying on the ground where it had fallen from its cloth wrappings. Kim picked it up and turned it over in her hand.

Fukushima shook his head. "I cannot do this, Kim Possible." He turned and ran towards the passage leading up and out of the cave.

"Fukushima!" Kim pocketed the dagger and chased him up the dark passage. "Stop!"

She didn't know what she was doing – whether she was really planning to kill Fukushima – but if he got away, she would have nothing. He was not far ahead. She exited the passage into the open air and saw the ninja scrambling up a nearby hill, trying to make it out of the depression in the earth where the cave was situated. He was having trouble with his hands still handcuffed, but Kim wondered if he was going to scream. The Yamanouchi school was close enough that he might get someone's attention if he made it to higher ground and got a little closer.

Kim pulled her grappling gun from her cargo pants and aimed it at Fukushima's leg. She fired, and a hook attached to a black cable went sailing through the air, burying itself in the ninja's ankle. Kim pulled the cord in and Fukushima was dragged screaming back down the hillside like a fish on a line. Hopefully no one at Yamanouchi could hear it.

"Sorry Fukushima, but I can't let you go. Not yet."

Fukushima's prone form writhed on the ground in pain as Kim watched. She did not feel any sympathy for the ninja; he had killed Ron, and mere injury was less than he deserved. Nevertheless, she wondered if she could murder a person, even if he was a killer. She wondered what Ron would think. Would Ron have killed someone to bring Kim back to life? She wasn't sure. Kim thought of herself as a nice person, a good person, but she had always gotten the impression that Ron was a little kinder than she was. Perhaps less willing to do whatever it took to get the job done.

Kim shook her head, as if to clear out her conflicting thoughts. She could figure things out later, but right now, she had to move. It was time to return to Middleton.


	4. Earth Made Flesh

**Earth Made Flesh**

XX

Sensei combed the mountainside in his search as Yori trailed behind him.

"When did you say that Onoda-san first heard the scream?" Sensei asked his young charge.

"About half an hour ago," said Yori. "Onoda-san told me he was meditating in the mountains when he heard a scream come from this area, but when he arrived here to search for its origin, he found no one. I thought it would be best to inform you so that you could look into it yourself."

"A wise decision," said Sensei as he stopped in front of a large boulder. He and Yori had been combing the mountain with no luck, but this boulder was significant. Sensei could feel a faint trace of magical energy emanating from within, as if the boulder was hiding something. Judging by the condition of the ground around the boulder, it had recently been moved.

"What is it, Sensei?"

"Stand back, my child."

Sensei placed his hands on the boulder. He felt that there was a spell in place to prevent the boulder from being moved – probably a spell that needed some kind of special key – but Sensei's abilities were stronger and more ancient than the magic that kept the boulder in place. It shifted easily aside, revealing a black mouth that sank into the earth.

Sensei entered the mouth. Before long, he and Yori arrived at an underground chamber built of stone and earth. The chamber housed various ancient relics and artifacts. They pulsed with a dark power which Sensei could feel, prickling against his skin. He was troubled that someone could have built such a chamber so close to Yamanouchi without his knowledge. Sensei was wise and powerful, but unfortunately, he was not omniscient.

"What is this place, Master?"

Sensei noticed an empty alcove in the back of the chamber. Some dust lay on the ground, as if something had been removed from the alcove. With Kim's recent visit to Yamanouchi and her inquiries about bringing Stoppable-san back, Sensei began to worry. Hearing her question, Sensei glanced back at Yori. He noticed her blanch with a sudden guilty expression. Sensei's fear increased.

"Yori, my child... did you, by any chance, tell Kim Possible to keep searching in her foolish quest?"

Yori hung her head.

"Sensei, I am sorry. I told Kim Possible of dark magic, things I have heard in the past, but that I knew nothing about. She must have discovered something because of my encouragement."

Sensei shook his head slowly. His long life had given him great knowledge of various forms of magic, and he recognized some of the artifacts in the chamber – they were dangerous indeed – but other objects in the chamber were alien to him. Sensei needed to know more about what had been taken from that alcove.

"Are we going to find Kim Possible, Sensei?"

"Eventually, yes. And you will not be coming, Yori." His young charge flinched at the tone of his voice. "You have disappointed me. But first, I need to do something else."

Sensei began to leave the dark chamber, back the surface. He would need to use his astral powers to communicate out of his body, to pierce a hole through the material world and access another plane. It was a powerful skill, one that Sensei used in times of need. A skill that demanded great self-control.

In this case, he needed to talk to someone outside of his own plane of existence. The dark magic emanating from the room, the types of artifacts that he saw within it, and the very fact that it was so close to Yamanouchi gave Sensei the feeling that he needed to talk to one person in particular. The person whose hand print – or paw print, perhaps – was stamped all over the dark chamber.

Monkey Fist.

XX

A rental car made its way down a highway. Headlights lifted the curtain of night from the road ahead. In the driver's seat, Kim Possible yawned as she watched the reflectors zip by on the road. Bushes, off the side of the highway, briefly appeared at the edges of the headlight's glow, as if they were watching the car pass by. Kim could not remember how long ago she had last gotten any sleep; it seemed like days. She was dead tired.

Getting out of Japan had been tricky. She had to take Fukushima with her, who was much less willing to go quietly at this point. Most of her contacts would not have approved of what Kim was doing, but she had called someone on a gamble; a small aircraft pilot who knew about what had happened to Ron. The pilot sympathized with her and was willing to look the other way when it came to Fukushima. Kim hadn't explained what she was doing with the ninja, and the pilot may have had his suspicions, but he didn't ask. He had even helped her stuff Fukushima into the trunk of the rental car.

Kim reached the outskirts of Middleton. She felt a rising excitement within her. She could be just minutes away from seeing Ron again; but she still drove carefully within the speed limit. If any police officers pulled her over now, it would be difficult to explain why muffled yelling was coming from the trunk.

_ I'm coming, Ron. Not long now._

She wove her way through lamp-lit streets until she began to drive on darker roads, away from the center of town. Before long, Kim slowed the car down as its headlights illuminated a familiar set of ornate wrought-iron gates set into a stone wall. The gates were overlaid with iron lettering, painted white and almost glowing in the headlights:

Middleton Cemetery.

She got out of the car just long enough to open the gates, and then drove down the winding gravel path that curled like a snake through the cemetery's dark grass. The bushes along the highway that had watched the car pass by were replaced by granite tombstones. Most of the tombstones squatted, impassive and faceless, but here and there, an angel spread its wings and gazed at the earth in silent mourning.

The cemetery was unfamiliar at night, but eventually Kim drew close to where her best friend lay. She stopped the car, leaving the headlights on to see better. Beside her, in the passenger's seat, lay her knapsack containing the astral orb and the dagger she would need for her spell.

The knapsack also contained a variety of candles that she had picked up at a quick pit stop on the way to Middleton. Long ago, she remembered going on a mission with Ron to fight Monkey Fist. Their simian foe had been setting up a spell, and Ron had asked why he used so many candles. Monkey Fist had explained that candles were like lubricant for a good spell. It was just the way things were done. So Kim was taking his advice.

She picked up the knapsack and walked around to the back of the car, opening its trunk. Fukushima lay inside, his hands still cuffed and his mouth gagged. He looked sick; his skin was pallid and covered in sweat. She pulled him out of the trunk and pointed him in the direction of Ron's grave.

"We're going this way. No running." Not that there was any chance of Fukushima running; he could barely walk on his injured ankle without falling over in pain. She had to prop him up on several occasions.

Kim began to sweat. It was a hot summer evening, and it had rained recently, so the air was muggy and black like oil. The ground beneath her feet was damp. Her shoes pressed into it as it gave way, soft and porous. She felt like she was walking on flesh. Crickets chirped a chorus in the dark grass surrounding her, and she had a sensation that the earth beneath her was filled with life. Worms, beetles, other insects. Crawling, squirming life.

Ron's gravestone appeared before her. It was just out of the range of the car's headlights, but her eyes had become accustomed to the darkness and there was enough of a residual glow to make things visible. She knelt down to the soft earth and opened the knapsack, lighting the candles and arranging them in a circle around the area of Ron's grave.

"Get down on the ground," she said to Fukushima. He hesitated.

"Look, I'm not going to kill you, at least not yet. I want to try something else first."

Fukushima lowered himself down and lay against the earth as Kim gave him a slight push. He seemed to be giving up; with his hands bound, and with his injury, he knew there was no way he could escape from someone like Kim.

When Monkey Fist had explained the spell, Kim remembered him saying that blood needed to be spilled on the grave of the person she wanted to resurrect. She had assumed that meant murder, and so had Monkey Fist, but perhaps it didn't. She took the undulating knife from the cloth sack and turned to Fukushima.

The ninja moaned through his gag as Kim cut into his chest and stomach. It was not a deep cut, not fatal, but it was enough to draw blood easily. She finished the cut and turned him over so that he was lying face-first on top of Ron's grave. Perhaps the blood needed to seep through the earth. She pressed Fukushima down against the ground to make sure that would happen, drawing another moan from the ninja.

Moments passed. Then minutes. The candles flickered here and there from a light breeze, and the crickets continued to chirp. Fukushima lay against the earth, his breathing ragged. Nothing was happening. Kim realized that blood was not enough. Life for life, as Monkey Fist had said.

"Sorry Fukushima. I have no choice."

The teen hero turned her captive over and placed the knife carefully over his heart.

"I am sorry that I killed the out – that I killed Ron-san." said Fukushima. The gag had slipped from his mouth, and his words were now clear. "Please, do it quickly."

Kim nodded. She readied herself; Fukushima flinched only slightly as the tip of the dagger nicked his skin where it rested. Kim leaned, about to press her full weight against the dagger and drive it down, but she paused...

XX

"You know I'll keep in touch, Kim."

Kim sniffed as she embraced her best friend, her boyfriend. The sound of planes and shuttles echoed through the departures terminal from outside. A voice spoke from the loudspeakers, announcing that Ron's flight was ready for boarding.

"It's just that we're going to be apart for so long, and then who knows what's going to happen when college starts, and -"

"Hey, come on now," said Ron as he stroked her hair. "Remember how worried I was when we were graduating, and you told me it wasn't going to be the end of the world? Okay, so maybe it almost was," - Kim had to laugh a little - "but you were right. And it's the same now. We'll work things out."

Kim sighed. "I still wish you weren't going to Japan."

"I know, but I feel like I need to do this. It's going to be good for me! I want to get better at things. I want to help you more on missions, maybe learn how to control that power that I had when we were fighting the Warlordians."

"You've always helped me on missions, Ron. At least, most of the time." Kim gave Ron a smile that he returned. "You're fine just the way you are."

"I know KP, but I'm not talking about changing who I am... I just want to be able to help you more. I'm still going to be the same old Ron Stoppable, just like you've always been the same old Kim that I know and love."

"And why do you love me, Ron?"

At this point, Kim knew she was just fishing for compliments, but it would keep Ron occupied a little longer before he had to leave.

"Tons of reasons! A big one would be the way you live your life. I mean, I've got your back, KP. But even if I didn't, you'd still do what you do. Even if I was gone, you'd still be going on missions, being selfless, helping people. Saving lives. It's just who you are."

Kim smiled. She didn't know quite when it had happened, but her boyfriend had gotten to be quite the charmer. Sometimes he did test her patience a little, that was true, but he had a knack for saying the right things when it counted most.

The loudspeaker blared again, announcing the last call for boarding. Ron gave her a final hug and a kiss, and Kim watched as he began to walk backwards, waving at her with a goofy grin on his face. He ran into several people, apologizing as he did, but on this occasion, she was glad that he was making a scene. She wasn't ready for him to turn around. Not quite yet.

"I'll be back soon, KP!"

XX

...and she let go of the dagger.

The blade rested harmlessly on Fukushima's chest. Kim sank down to the earth beside him, her arms on the ground, her hands covering her face. She could not kill Fukushima. She knew that now. It was not who she was – it was an act that would change her, and act from which she could not return. Even if it brought Ron back, he would not forgive her for doing such a thing. He would not want her to do it.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I tried."

Her hands became wet with tears. Her body shook. Sensei was right – this was the way things were. Perhaps it was even destiny. Ron had been taken away from her, and there was nothing she could do to bring him back. Not even Kim Possible could change that.

Kim could hear Fukushima breathing heavily beside her, and she could feel the hot night air against her skin, but she felt a new kind of heat against one of her arms. She took her hands away from her face, her eyes blurry with tears, and looked down at the ground. It was the astral orb. It lay uncovered in the open cloth knapsack, where she had been touching it with her arm unknowingly. Kim felt it; it was hot to the touch. Something inside it seemed to be swirling up from a great depth. Kim noticed that the crickets had stopped chirping.

Was it Monkey Fist? She hadn't tried to speak to him since she had taken the dagger from the cave. She hadn't touched the astral orb with her hands when it started heating up, and she hadn't tried to imagine anyone in her mind. The orb must work both ways, she thought. I can use it to talk to others, but perhaps someone can use it to talk to me. Someone in another reality.

_ KP?_

Kim looked around her, startled. She recognized the voice instantly. Judging by Fukushima's reaction as he lay bleeding on the ground, he recognized it as well. Kim assumed that the voice must be coming from the orb, and yet it seemed to hang in the air all around her.

"Ron? Ron, is that you?"

_ Yeah, Kim, it's me._

Kim held a hand to her mouth.

"Oh my God, Ron! Ron, where are you?"

_ I'm speaking to you through the orb, Kim. I'm in a different world, but I can sense you._

Kim could not believe what she was hearing. She had failed to communicate with Ron earlier, but perhaps now that she was beside his grave, somehow the link was easier to make. Perhaps Ron, wherever he was, had sensed her presence.

"You're not dead?"

The disembodied voice laughed faintly. _Yes and no, Kim. It's hard to explain what things are like after death, but I still exist, in a sense._

"Ron, I'm trying to bring you back, but I don't know how!"

_ Somebody's gotta sacrifice a life to bring me back to life, Kim. It's part of some cosmic balance._

"I know. I brought Fukushima here, Ron. I was going to sacrifice him, but I can't do it."

_ It doesn't matter if it's Fukushima, Kim. You have to use the dagger to take the life, but it can be anyone's life. As long as there's an equal exchange of lives, it's all good._

Kim looked into the sky, as if she could see Ron if she looked hard enough. Ron was confusing her; she had been under the impression that she needed to kill Ron's murderer in order to bring him back. Maybe murder created some dark connection between the culprit and their victim that could be exploited with magic. That was Kim's best guess, at least.

"I don't understand. That's not what Monkey Fist said. He told me it had to be your murderer."

_ Monkey Fist isn't always right, though. I mean, he obviously didn't understand enough about the Yono, yono what I mean?_

Kim laughed. "That's true."

She was happy to hear Ron's voice again. There was something odd about the voice, as if it had a slight buzz, or even an echo, but Kim didn't notice; it was her Ron. He was not gone forever. She looked back down at the knife and thought about her options.

"So it can be any life?"

_ Yes, any life in exchange for my own. I miss you so much, Kim. I wish I could see you again... but I know I couldn't ask you to take someone else's life to bring me back. I know you want me back, but I can't ask you do to something like that._

Kim nodded. Ron was right; she knew she couldn't do it, and she knew that Ron couldn't ask her to do it. As much as she hated Fukushima for what he had done to Ron, she could not sink to the ninja's level. Kim picked up the dagger from where it lay on Fukushima's chest and stared at the blade as it rested in the palm of her hand.

She realized what she had to do. Ron said that any life would cause the dagger's spell to bring Ron back. Kim wanted to see Ron more than anything, but she loved him enough that she would bring him back. Even if it meant never seeing him again.

She held the hilt of the dagger with both hands and plunged it into her stomach.

A voice came from out of the darkness. "_No_! It is too late!"

Kim's body tensed as she gasped in pain. She saw Fukushima gape at her in horror, but it was not the ninja who had just cried out. She looked around, confused, still clutching the hilt of the blade that was buried in her body. Beyond the circle of candles surrounding Ron's grave, several figures ran towards her out of the darkness. A few of them were ninjas, their black garb almost invisible against the night sky. One figure was much older than the rest, dressed in a red tunic. It was Sensei.

"You foolish girl! Why did you do that?"

Kim looked up at Sensei as he arrived at the circle of candles. She could feel the life ebbing from her, a dull pain radiating through her entire body from its focal point in her stomach. She knew the wound was mortal.

"Ron... the orb. Ron was speaking to me through the orb. He told me any life could be sacrificed to bring him back."

Sensei shook his head. "No, no... that is not correct. You were not talking to Ron Stoppable, my poor girl."

Kim gritted her teeth. "I heard his voice! It was Ron!"

"No... it was something else. Something imitating Ron. Ron Stoppable would have told you to let him go, to honor him by living your own life and moving on, do you not see? The orb is a conduit, a gate. It can be used to talk to sentient beings, whether they exist in our world or in others. Something was tricking you, Kim Possible. Something wanted you to perform the spell incorrectly."

"I don't understand," said Kim in a haze of pain. "What did I do wrong? I sacrificed my life for Ron."

"I do not know if the spell would have worked, Kim Possible, but Fukushima would have provided a focal point for the magic. He murdered Ron Stoppable, which created a dark and powerful connection between the two of them, and sacrificing him would create a gap between worlds. A gap through which his victim could return.

"You have sacrificed yourself instead. You have no connection to Ron-san; you did not murder him. There is no focal point for the magic. You have made a rift through which anyone can enter. Monkey Fist was wise to hide this spell, Kim Possible – it is magic that none of us can truly understand. It is not to be toyed with."

Kim shook her head and pulled the blade from her body, throwing it outside of the circle and wincing as a bolt of pain coursed through her. She had a vague thought that perhaps the spell would stop if the blade was out of the circle, or out of her body, but she knew it was just wishful thinking.

"What will come through the portal now?"

"I do not know," said Sensei. "Whatever was tricking you and imitating Ron. Many other things, perhaps. Things that should not be in this world."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" asked Kim. "You could have stopped me by projecting an image of yourself or something, the way you've done it with Ron in the past, when you needed to talk to him. You didn't have to take so much time coming here to tell me all this!"

Sensei shook his wizened head sadly. "Something was blocking me, Kim Possible. Perhaps using the astral orb as a barrier. I could not reach you. Besides, you must be honest with yourself; would you have listened to me if I had told you the spell was dangerous? I am sure others have warned you against the path you have taken."

Kim did not know if she would have listened or not, but Sensei had a point. She clutched at her wound and felt hot blood pulsing out through her hands, watering the earth over Ron's grave. She could feel her senses begin to dull. Her time was ticking away.

Blood ran from her body like a red rope, dangling down into the earth. She felt the rope swing back and forth. She felt the rope tighten. Someone had grabbed the other end. Someone was pulling themselves up, towards her, towards the surface. Was it Ron? She knew it was Ron. It just had to be him. The tugging continued, and as the sensation became more clear, Kim knew she was fooling herself. It wasn't Ron tugging on the rope. No... not him.

Them.

Kim was unable to hold herself up; she was tired, and her body was not responding very well anymore. She sat, slumped against the earth, her hands pressed into the soft soil, and she felt things beneath her. Movement. Outside the circle of candles, she saw telltale ripples in the darkness, shifting shapes amongst the gravestones. One tombstone was well-lit by the candles, enough that Kim could read a name. Jackson-something. The ground shifted beneath the stone, and a clawed shape struggled free, lifting itself out of the black loam. Jackson's hand.

The ninjas around Sensei pulled katanas from their scabbards and began to circle nervously, pulling closer to each other. First one figure stumbled out of the darkness towards them, then another, then three. One of the ninjas gave a hoarse shout.

The figures drew closer, illuminated by the candlelight. Some looked like sleepwalkers, their faces vacant, their hands reaching out for something, but still people. Some did not look like people. Even in the light, their bodies were black, their faces an indistinguishable mass of what had once been human features. The stench was overpowering.

Kim stared down at the earth as the ninjas began to swing their katanas, letting out sharp battle cries. She began to understand the magnitude of what she had done. She wondered if the dead were only rising in Middleton's cemetery, or if the spell had taken hold over the entire world. Sensei was right - instead of bringing back Ron, she had opened some kind of wider door into the beyond. The dead were walking through, and there was no telling what else might be entering Kim's world. How could this have happened? She only wanted Ron back.

The earth rumbled beneath her hands. Kim managed to shift her weight and fall backwards with her remaining energy, moving away from Ron's grave. The ground parted. The gravestone – Ron Stoppable, hero, friend, son, rest in peace – sank into the growing depression in the soil. A hand rose up from the earth, then another. Hair, covered in dirt, but still straw-blond. A face. His face. Kim watched in despair. It was his face, but it was not him. No smile, no goofy expression, eyes that were not bright brown but milky white.

"Oh, Ron... I'm so sorry."

Ron turned to her with sightless eyes. His hands reached out to touch her. Fukushima lay on the ground, paralyzed with terror, and watched. Kim was helpless, the strength completely gone from her body. It was an unfamiliar feeling. The pain was not as bad as it had been. Her vision grew hazy. The candles seemed to be dimming, and night was drawing its veil over her. Ron's hands grasped at her clothing, his arms wrapped around her, carefully, as if he was drawing her in for a last hug.

"Be gentle, Ron."

She felt only the slightest sting as his teeth broke the skin of her neck.

XX

Darkness.

She was in a blank expanse, floating like a dust mote. It was not even Kim that floated; Kim did not exist. There was only nothingness, and a sense of floating. There was peace.

The nothingness rippled, like the surface of a lake hit by the first drops of rain from a cloudy sky. The nothingness turned into something. Kim appeared. She was at a great depth, and faint sounds traveled from a great distance, distorted, muffled. She began to rise, and the sounds formed into a new clarity. She felt the sensation of having eyes with which to see. The colorlessness around her began to coalesce. Colors, shapes, forms. The sound grew louder, more insistent. She resurfaced.

"Is this heaven?"

Kim formed the words with her mouth, as if she had just learned to speak. She looked around her. It was dark, but it was not the kind of darkness she had just escaped from; it was night. The candles were still arranged around her, feeble flames reaching up. The ninjas were still fighting. Several of the rotten shapes attacking them were now missing limbs, but they kept coming.

Kim felt indifferent to the scene around her. There was one thing that caught her immediate attention: Ron. She gazed at him, noticing his lips were red with fresh blood.

"Kim?" His mouth did not open, but she heard him speak.

"Ron?"

"It's me, Kim. It's okay now."

"How can I hear you? I couldn't hear you before."

Ron's face gazed at her. "You're one of us. You're like me now, so you can hear me."

Kim nodded. Her attention suddenly shifted away from Ron, to the earth beneath them. She looked at the ninja lying on the ground. His name was Fukushima – she remembered that. She felt an unknown sense growing in herself. Not quite smell, not quite sight or taste, but perhaps something in between. The sense was sharp, and Fukushima filled her with an irresistible urge.

An urge to feed.

Kim dragged herself over to Fukushima, and Ron followed suit. The ninja could have been screaming, or he could have just been watching in terror; Kim was not paying attention. Her hands reached down and clawed at his clothing, tearing it away. His flesh was exposed. She felt her fingers press in, just like they had pressed into the soft soil earlier. Fukushima's flesh fell away like tissue paper. Kim and Ron clawed and sifted through him as tendrils of blood poked through their fingers, rising out of his dying body like blossoming flowers. Kim lowered her face to eat, and Ron did the same.

They were done within moments. Blood ran down Kim's chin, down her neck, and she felt it wet her clothes and face. She looked at Ron with a deep sense of satisfaction.

"I missed you, Ron."

"I missed you too, Kim. But you came back for me."

Kim leaned forward and embraced him. "I couldn't let you go. I love you."

Ron's face was expressionless, but Kim felt him smile. "I love you too."

Although she was lost in Ron's embrace, Kim could vaguely hear the ninjas around them abandoning the fight. The old man – his name was Sensei, Kim could remember that as well – told the ninjas that it was too late to do anything, that they needed to help elsewhere. The ninjas retreated into the darkness, leaving Kim and Ron alone with the dead.

Kim felt two desires almost overwhelm her. One was a desire for Ron. She wanted to be with him, and she had gotten what the wanted. Perhaps the old man was wrong. He had told her that she had no connection to Ron, but she did have a connection. Love. Perhaps that connection could survive even in death. She did not know for sure, but she knew the feeling was there.

Her second desire was the desire to feed. Fukushima had satisfied that desire, for now. Other emotions were dull, vague, like shadows of what they had been before. She tried to remember her past. The memories were there, but it was hard to concentrate on them. She felt like she was looking at them through murky water.

As she looked at the mass of flesh and bone that had once been Fukushima, Kim wasn't even sure if the memories belonged to her anymore. Her body felt sticky with blood. She was baptized in it, and she was reborn. She had been Kim Possible, but perhaps now she was something new.

"Hey, KP."

"Yes?"

"Maybe we should stop by Bueno Nacho later for a bite to eat."

Kim thought it was a good idea. She knew Ron wasn't talking about Nacos. She remembered Bueno Nacho, how it had been significant to her and Ron. Other faint memories crowded the periphery of her mind, which was now dominated by her two desires. She recalled that she had left her family, telling herself that she would not return to them until she got what she wanted.

Ron rose up from the ground to stand in front of her, and she rose with him. She had what she wanted. Perhaps she would pay her family a visit now. Ron took Kim by the hand and led her from the grave. She smiled with an unmoving mouth.

Things were the way they should be.

XX

* * *

_**Notes** - Hope you enjoyed the story, reviews are appreciated. Although this is one of my favorite story endings, and the first scene I had in mind for this story, it seems like people either liked or hated it_ _moreso than the endings of any of my other stories._


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